


Shaking

by princessitsy



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 08:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessitsy/pseuds/princessitsy
Summary: Because panic doesn't always come at convenient times.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Shaking

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the lilacmermaid prompt: “Elizabeth never wanted the kids to know that she’s been prescribed anti-anxiety meds, but Henry’s not home and her hands are shaking too much for her to get the pill bottle open without help. “
> 
> We’ll say set somewhere early Season 2. It’s not particularly important. 
> 
> As someone who has had their fair share of panic attacks and manages multiple anxiety-based disorders, I hope I did a decent job of capturing this. 
> 
> I can’t decide whether I hate this or love it, so here have it.

Elizabeth walks in the house and immediately kicks her heels across the room. She drops her bags on the floor and turns to slam the door shut. She tries to get her coat off, but it’s twisted and she screams in frustration. She yanks it with all her force and a seam might rip, but it’s finally off her body. She throws it to the side with her bags. All she wants is food, Tylenol, and glass, no make that a bottle, of wine. Her head has been throbbing since before lunch, and the lackluster salad she ate hadn’t helped matters. She walks toward the kitchen, shedding her suit jacket en route, leaving it tossed on a chair. She notices that, as usual, Jason has left his dirty socks laying in the middle of the floor, and, if the bag of trash by the back door is any indication, hasn’t completed his chores. She shouts his name up the stairs, but predictably he doesn’t respond. She shoots him a quick text, with only the words ‘Jason, Trash, Now.” It’s ridiculous that the only way she can communicate with her children most of the time is via phone, they live in the same damn house for god’s sake.

She turns to open the fridge but bangs her hip on the counter in the process. She screams out an expletive and grits her teeth to keep from crying. She opens the fridge and almost starts crying again when she sees there’s no food. Henry is in Chicago, doing something academia related, she can’t remember exactly what right now, and he’s the one who normally goes food shopping. She clenches her hands into fists, the nails digging into the skin of her palms. 

She slams the door shut and grabs her phone from the counter. She flicks open a message from Blake and sees that the Indonesian ambassador has canceled their meeting for the third time. Indonesia has been the only hold out on this trade deal they’ve been trying to put together for months. She lets out an annoyed sigh and responds to Blake telling him to tell the ambassador he better be in her office at nine am sharp or she might rethink their entire fucking relationship. Hopefully Blake puts it in more diplomatic terms. She tosses the phone back down and it clatters across the marble and falls to the floor with a thud. She stares at it for a moment but instead of picking it up she steps around and goes to grab a bottle of wine from the other room. She sets it down on the counter, but stills when she realizes she can’t for the life of her remember where any of the wine openers might be. She stares at the bottle, gaze caught by the reflection of light on the glass. She remains lost in thought until she hears Jason thumping down the stairs.

He grumbles as he enters the kitchen. “Why do I always have to be the one to take the trash out? Why can’t Aly do it? I thought you were all for equality.” He grabs the bag and opens the door, it bangs shut behind him and she startles. Wine opener, she reminds herself, she wants to find the wine opener. She starts rustling through drawers. They have at least three of the damn things, one of them must be around. She opens and slams shut three drawers before Jason comes back in. He’s still mumbling under his breath. He trudges into the living room and turns the tv on. She pushes around items in another drawer, can opener, ice cream scoop, grater, pizza cutter. Somehow, still no corkscrew. Her eye twitches and her breathing quickens. It would be nice if one thing in her life wasn’t so difficult.   
Jason has turned the volume up to earsplitting. She closes her eyes and pushes her fingers along the bridge of her nose, hoping for some relief. Tylenol, that’s right, she wanted something for the throbbing pain in her head. There should be some in the cabinet. She opens the door above her, but maybe they rearranged or she just forgot, because the only thing there are bowls. The sharp stab in her temple makes her wince, she just needs the ache to stop. 

Suddenly she hears Jason and Aly (when had she come downstairs, she must have missed it) arguing about what to watch. They are sniping at each other and she can’t quite parse the words, but they need to stop. The muscles in her legs quiver in protest as she walks the three steps over towards the living room. “Can you two cut it out?” She snaps out. 

Aly gives her a strange look. “Are you okay Mom?” 

“I’m fine,” she runs a shaky hand through her hair, “you both are done with the tv.”

“Mom!” They both yell simultaneously, but she ignores them and goes back to searching the kitchen. She needs to remember where they are keeping the medicine these days. She curls her hand into a fist and presses it against the center of her chest. The air is suddenly heavier, harder to breathe. She finally finds the cabinet and pulls out the basket holding bottles. She shuffles through the mess but can’t find what she wants so she turns the whole thing over, dumping it onto the counter. Bottles tumble out, some landing on the floor, one popping open, spilling gleaming white pills onto the tile. 

Aly and Jason are now in the kitchen, attempting to plead their case. She looks up at them, but her vision blurs and she can’t focus. She needs...she looks for her phone, but that’s not what she needs, her brain scrambles. It presents an image of a clear orange prescription bottle, resting in her briefcase. Her children are yelling at each other again. Quiet, she needs it to be quiet, she needs to be able to breathe. Jason makes a wide sweeping motion with his arms, emphasizing a point and knocking a glass off the counter in the process. It shatters, shards spinning in every direction. Her blood pumps faster and she blindly turns and moves toward the front door, toward her discarded bags. She gets to the entryway, her legs finally give up the fight and she stumbles. She slides along the wall next to the front door and half-falls onto the floor. 

She paws at her bag, struggling with the clasp. When it’s open, she turns it over, tipping all of the contents out. Paper flutters around, but she only pays attention to the thump of a bottle hitting the ground. She picks it up with trembling hands, the top won’t open. She needs to push and then turn or turn and then push. She can’t remember. Blood is roaring in her ears. She feels a gentle hand tug it out of her grasp and she wants to scream out a protest. There’s a quiet voice in the background, but she can’t translate the meaning. Then, the same soft hand is placing a pill into her hand and asking her a question, but she doesn’t answer just brings the pill to her mouth and dry swallows it. 

She tries to remember her breathing exercises, but the only thing she can remember is in and out, so she focuses on that, pulling air in and pushing it out. She’s not sure how long she sits there, but she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings, the uncomfortable bulge of a shoe pressing into her hip, a hand on her knee, soft voices. She feels the weight of the door against her as someone tries to open it. “What?” a voice from the other side says and pushes harder, shifting her a bit. There seems to be a bit of a commotion then, but she does her best to focus on in and out. Eventually she looks up and sees Stevie (she must have been the one to open the door) in deep conversation with Jason. Allison is kneeling in front of her, her face full of concern. When she meets her middle daughter’s eyes, Allison gives her a small smile “It’s okay Mom.” Her voice draws the attention of the other two and they look over, Jason looks scared and she wants to comfort him but she doesn’t have it in her. 

“I tried to call Dad, he didn’t answer. Are you okay?” Stevie’s words come out in a tumble. Before she can answer, Stevie continues, she turns over the pill bottle in her hands and looks down at it, “This is for panic attacks right? Is this about Iran? Maybe I should try Dad again.” Elizabeth just nods silently, but Stevie doesn’t notice, she is frantically tapping at her phone. 

She starts to push herself up, the floor isn’t comfortable. Allison eyes her warily but scoots back. Jason holds his hands out, like he’s afraid she might fall over. She shuffles over to the couch and sits down heavily. She closes her eyes again and leans back against the cushions. It sounds like Stevie has gotten a hold of someone, she hopes to god it’s Henry. She feels the couch shift as people sit down on either side of her. 

“Mom, are you really okay?” Jason sounds like a little boy again and she opens her eyes and reaches out and squeezes his hand. 

“Yes.” He looks unconvinced so she squeezes harder and moves her other hand to grab Aly’s hand and do the same. “I will be. It will pass.”

“I’m sorry,” he says in the same small voice. 

She wants to reassure him that it’s not his fault but Stevie interrupts. “Dad wants to talk to you Mom, but he says he’ll wait for you to call him later. He says we should get you something to eat and then let you rest. I’ll go make you some toast, you stay right here, don’t move. I’ve got it.” She rushes off, putting her phone back up to her ear. 

She looks at her two other children. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” They don’t seem to know quite what to do with that, but she’s exhausted her energy so she just closes her eyes again. They remain by her side. 

Stevie bustles back in and puts a plate in her lap. “Eat this. And here’s a glass of water.” Elizabeth obligingly opens her eyes and picks up the toast and takes a bite. She works her way methodically through both pieces and drains the entire glass. 

She sighs and puts the plate on the coffee table, the table Stevie is perched on, staring at her intensely. “I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed and we can talk about this in the morning. I’m okay, my brain just doesn’t always know that sometimes. Thank you guys. I love you very much.” She squeezes Aly and Jason’s hands and gives them all what she hopes is a reassuring look. The seem unconvinced but she doesn’t have anything left in her so she stands up and starts toward the kitchen.

“Watch out for the glass,” Stevie yells out. She nods her head in acknowledgment and continues forward. She bends down to retrieve her phone and does her best not to wince at the mess in the kitchen, cabinets and drawers open, items strewn everywhere. She ignores it all and slowly makes her way up the stairs, her feet like lead. When she enters her room she sheds her clothes, leaving them where they fall and puts on the first t shirt she touches. She falls into bed and flicks off the light. She blearily picks up her phone and unlocks it. Her eyes half open she taps the icon to call Henry.

He answers on the first ring. “Elizabeth.” His voice is soft and full of love and the tears that have been threatening all night finally start, running down her cheeks. “Baby? Are you there?”

“Yes,” she sobs out. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk. I just wanted to check in.” 

She takes a few deep shuddering breaths. “The kids. God, the kids.” 

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I talked to Stevie, and we will all talk when I get back tomorrow. They’re okay, I promise. And I told Stevie to have Jase and Aly call me if they need to.”

“I never wanted them to see me like that.”

He chuckles quietly. “Well I guess now they know you’re human after all.” 

She lets out a laugh through her tears. “They were scared.”

“Yes, but from what Stevie told me, the handled it admirably. So I guess we did something right. But the more important thing is are you alright?” 

She takes a minute to focus on her breathing and get her tears under control. “Mostly, it’s been a little while. I hate using the meds.” 

“I know, you’ve only used them what, twice before?” 

“Yeah, it doesn’t make it any better though.”

She hears him sigh, “Oh love, we’ve talked about this before, using the medication doesn’t make you any less strong or capable. It’s no different than taking a pill to prevent heartburn or lower cholesterol. We all need a little extra help sometimes.”

“Hmmm, if you say so.” She pushes deeper into the pillow and presses the phone tight against her ear. “Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” he says and she can almost feel his smile through the distance separating them. “Remember to take care of yourself tomorrow morning, don’t push too hard.” She mumbles something in agreement and he goes on. “Why don’t I tell you about my extremely boring day.”

She lets her eyes drift shut and her mind slowly turn off as he rambles on about bickering academics and debates over proper attribution.


End file.
